Free The Purest of Diamonds? by Susan Stephens

there was something about Leila making him edgy. She’d changed. He couldn’t put his finger on it yet, but he would. He reasoned that seeing her again had thrown him badly. He had thought he could handle it, but now he wasn’t so sure.
    ‘In future, I’ll make certain your mail hits the top of the stack,’ he offered for the sake of building a working relationship.
    ‘Thank you, Raffa.’
    Even that bland response made him suspicious. Leila was too mild—so mild she made him curious as to why. The Leila he knew was quiet, but she stood up for herself, and was feisty and fun. This Leila was guarded and distant. Keeping up a business front couldn’t account for such a complete change in anyone.
    Keeping up a business front wouldn’t be easy for either of them, he conceded. It was hard for him to find a comfortable operating zone with a woman who had been his lover and who was now a colleague. It would have been easier with anyone other than Leila, because most women didn’t want what she wanted from him; they were far more calculating. But Leila had always been quite open about wanting the whole nine yards: the happy ending, the home, the children—not quite sure about the doting husband, though she deserved nothing less. But none of that was in his gift. He was a confirmed bachelor who had learned to curb his feelings from a young age.
    ‘Seeing as you haven’t received my mail, I hope you won’t think my ideas for the exhibition too ambitious, Raffa.’
    Again he detected tension in her voice and wondered at it. ‘Nothing you ever did could surprise me, Leila.’
    She looked away, when he had only been trying to lighten the atmosphere. Now he was certain she was hiding something. ‘Twenty minutes and we’ll be there,’ he said, wondering which of them longed to reach their destination more.
    She was here to work, Leila reminded herself firmly. Raffa didn’t have to be the man she remembered. She didn’t expect him to be. And she would have plenty of chances while she was on the island to tell him she was pregnant. If they were going to work together she had to put things back on track before she tackled anything personal.
    ‘I’m looking forward to learning more about your gems.’
    Dipping his head briefly to register the fact that he’d heard her was Raffa’s only response.
    She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to straighten things out between them. ‘I realise you’re far more sophisticated than I am, but—’
    ‘Let me put you out of your misery, Leila.’ He said this coolly, not even glancing at her as he concentrated on the road ahead. ‘You’re here to work and so am I. I’m not on your agenda and you’re not on mine. Not in the personal sense, anyway. Does that reassure you?’
    Her stomach clenched at Raffa’s words. He couldn’t have made it any plainer that he didn’t want any reminders of their brief and passionate encounter. ‘I am reassured,’ she lied, her mind full of the baby. How could she tell him now?
    She had to find a way to tell him. It was as simple as that.
    They drove in tense silence for quite a time. She stared blindly out of the window, but the incredible view finally pierced her sombre mood. Raffa’s island home was beautiful and she couldn’t remain immune to it. The jet hadn’t flown over this part of the island. The agricultural land was lush and well cared for, and on the fringes of the rolling fields immaculately maintained farmsteads slumbered in the sun. He drove on through quaint villages, where white villas nestled in companionable groups on tree-cloaked hills, until finally he turned to her and said, ‘This is the village where I live.’
    She looked with interest at the cobbled streets and a tiny market square, where stalls selling fresh produce from outlying farms were bustling with activity. As they passed through the village they drove on along a clifftop road where she could see the bright blue sea glinting far below them. ‘This is